The End and Existence
by still-lilies
Summary: Five drabbles of varying length. Russia, Belarus, Switzerland/Liechtenstein, Latvia, and Sealand.


_Note: These are five drabbles written and the spur of the moment. They are mostly unedited. They are rated for a reason; the following contains dark themes and content, angst, and sexual content in relation to minors._

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**- **_**Russia; PG, 191 -**_

Sometimes I wonder what the point is, the point of all this, all the wars and meeting and hatred- why do we need it? Why are we fighting endlessly, why are all of our relationships focused merely on having someone to fight alongside with when you're at war?

And if we continue, continue living like this, we'd all go crazy, because we're nations, but we're more, far more human than you'd think. And humans are warm and filled with need for love and happiness, for the small pleasures of life, for those little things like seeing the smile of a loved one in the morning.

Not that I would know. I lost my humanity, almost lost it but very little remains anyway, a long time ago. You'd think it would feel great to know about everything that is wrong with you so you can improve, but that's the worst, because I know how there is something, _something _inside me_, _that I can't control or stop or understand, and it feels like being a witness to a murder when it comes out- I can only play along to my own mind's act.

-_** Belarus, Belarus/Russia PG, 255-**_

Natalia knows. She knows and understands far more than it looks like, and knows that there are things she doesn't see and understand either, but it doesn't quite matter. Natalia knows that she is a weak nation, knows that she has no true independence and that she is nothing to the world but White Russia, no matter if even Big Sister would gain an identity outside Little Russia (and maybe that's why Katya suddenly declared herself anti-Russia-), she would always stay in his shadow.

She knows that she is a nation that wasn't supposed to survive in the first place- she should have gone sickened, hadn't grown, and never made it, like many, many others- after all, what kind of nation is one that was created on whim in the first place?

And yet, she was here. She lived through all this time, and made it, and was here with Brother, and as long as he was there, she was happy. After all, she had nobody else that was truly with her in her life. And she lived a pointless life, centered on him. But that was life and how she loved it- and never-ending, pointless existence.

Then he changed (_-and became the Soviet Union-)_, and changed (_-and became Russia again, for real)_- and found herself free for the first time in her life, and made sure to keep her relationship with Russia safe, because there is nothing she fears as much as having Russia, the only person as close to her, as an enemy.

-** _Switzerland/Liechtenstein, PG-13, light R, 317-_**

His hands slipped carefully under her skirt, the one she used to wear as a child, reminding him of the times when she was still young, still childlike, and yet, the same as now. She had grown taller, matured, had lost the femininity she possessed so much when younger- and yet, hadn't quite reached him, had been trapped in the body of an adolescent, stuck between childhood and adulthood.

(He had grown healthier, stronger, and so had she.)

She was wearing the dress to please him, he knew. He stroked and gently caressed the fresh skin under his hands, from the places under her back and her stomach to the very edge of her legs.

He never spoke during those moments, hadn't been able to express the guilt, the feeling of bile inside of him. And yet, after many, many years of having such a relationship with her, Vash found himself growing used to the 'romance' that he had deemed wrong and filthy the first time it happened.

His hands reached her chest, and he remembered how much she had grown since then- remembered again that Liechtenstein had grown and was no longer the child that he had felt such- such- lust for.

The first time he ever spoke to her during these moments was four years ago, when she was fourteen and was finishing the first stage of human development, and when she was growing and developing as a nation, surpassing all of his expectations.

He told her then, how much wrong this felt, and that they should stop, because she as almost naked and he was going farther, much farther than kissing on the lips and reached other body parts- the neck and the throat and then, lower.

She nodded, then shook her head, and kissed him (and farther too).

They hadn't spoken of it since then._ (Just continued to love each other like that)_

_-__**Latvia, PG, 106 **__-_

Raivis remembered the cold most. He remembered it best, and had spent so long, so many nights in bed, surrounded by nothing but the icy, chilly feeling that wouldn't leave his spine. And then, when he _would _fall asleep, would manage to sleep without shivering and shaking in bed, unable to relax first, when he would fall asleep with peace, he would dream of his own field of flowers, where _his _flowers would be in endless quantities and where there would be millions and millions of different types.

One night he wondered to himself if you could kill someone with a flower and hadn't remembered it.

**- **_**Sealand, PG-13, 403-**_

Sealand was still young and developing, on its way to becoming independent farther than having his own land, but still, Peter had grown, and had developed with a price, and the price that was heavier every day, that he felt every time the scars on his arms and his back ached and the wounds would reopen and dirty his clean clothes with blood. It had been learning and fighting and war, pain and suffering, going through the centuries of bile that everyone had gone through before him, that had been the biggest price he'd ever paid, and yet it lead him _somewhere_, and he had not regretted going through it.

It was later, after the wounds opened again, when he began to realize how much the world changed. He began to realize that nothing, nobody is like they were anymore, that nobody seems to truly live. Kiku hardly talks, hardly sees, doesn't look in the eye and doesn't seem to care, and the color slowly leaves his face, and even his black hair seems to lose _something. _Alfred and Arthur, their bickering is losing it's edge, and they no longer seem to care for anything anymore, not for themselves nor each other. Alfred's blue eyes fade and his skin pales and his hair is no longer so bright- and Arthur, he doesn't seem to care for anything either, and Peter remembers his eyes being far, far greener and his voice louder.

He is watching everyone whither and lose life- watches Ludwig lose his will, slowly, Ivan's madness taking a farther turn to the point that he cannot think straight anymore, Felicks and Toris don't seem to care for anything either, and Raivis and Eduard hardly come outside. Every nation he sees anymore is losing the spark that its personality had, losing what had defined him so clearly- even _Feliciano_, who had always stayed alive at the worst of times, dons a smile that looks so broken and withered it hurts to look at him.

Peter had always wondered how it is to be immortal; to walk around the world while everybody around you dies. Peter had also wondered if there was such a thing as The End of the World, (and if there is- _if_, because he hopes with all his heart that not- when will it come), and realizes with horror, that when the nations around him stop pretending to live and die, that it is coming closer with each day and that he paid the biggest price by seeing it so clearly.

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End file.
